One Life (Phan)

5 (Dan)

 "One Oyster card, please."

"How much credit?"

I swallowed. "What's your max?"

The lady looks up at me. I realize she looks astonishingly like Phil. Her pale skin and sharp blue-green eyes stand out against her raven hair. My head pulses as my heart rate speeds up.

"100 minutes."

I blink. I have 300 miles to get outside of London, and 100 minutes to do it per day.

Am I going to get out in time?

"Y-yeah," I stutter. "I'll take that."

I handed her my Visa and felt eyes on the back of my neck as she scanned it. She put £200 on the card and handed it to me. I took it quickly, lowering my head as I passed everyone.

Suddenly, a strange, sharp thought occurred to me. What if one of my followers found me?

If a random girl, who loved to watch my crap videos, saw me on the Tube... would she take a video? And if she did, would Phil find it? Would he know where I am?

I pull my hood over my head.

The noises of central London pour over me, tumbling like falling bricks. I don't stand out in the crowd, thank God, but I still walk quickly, my heart jumping in my throat. I begin to wonder if Phil found IT yet, or if the note is still on his mirror. I start to wonder how he reacted.

Look what you did to him, a voice whispered in the back of my brain.

My mind wanders, more and more.

He killed himself. Didn't he, Dan? He killed himself, and it's all because of you. All because of your selfish, stupid reasons. That, or he called the police! Can you imagine your viewers reaction? Dan, the runaway. Or maybe he's dead! Maybe he's dead, on the floor, a gun in his hand, a knife in his throat, dead, all because of you Dan! All because of yo--

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry!"

I barely even notice that I've slammed into someone. She is considerably younger than I was, about 16 or 17, and she is wearing black skinny jeans with a white top. Her hair is a deep, dark brown, and it was cut short in a pixie cut. Her cheeks are flushed furiously as she apologizes repeatedly.

"Oh my, I am so, so sorry, I am such a clutz, I got my coffee all over you--"

At the word coffee, my heart freezes.

What was it that Phil spilled all over the floor? What was it? Coffee? Ha, what a coincidence! That is so funny. Maybe you should keep talking to her. After all, she'll remind you of Phil! Oh yes, Phil, the one you left for good! For good!

"It's fine," I try to smile, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

The girl looks up and a flicker of recognition sparkles across her grey eyes.

"D-Dan," She mutters, her face beat red. "Oh my God, I am so freaking sorry..."

I suddenly feel the warmth of the coffee through my shirt. I didn't even notice it, I was too dumbfounded. The girl's voice had just been floating through my ears, jumbling up the phrases before I could process them. All I can think of is Phil, and I think that's all I will ever think of.

Smell that coffee, Dan? Smell that bitter coffee? Remember when you left? Remember when you tried to clean off the stain? Remember when the coffee smell still wafted through the entire apartment? Oh my God, even when you were taping IT! Remember IT? Don't you--

"I-I-It's fine," I stutter again. I'd been shaking since I left IT on Phil's mirror.

"Okay... okay..." She swallows hard, and ducks her head, probably still blushing, and continues on her walk.

I sigh deeply.

I swallow hard.

I blink.

Then I continue on my journey to escape.